


Match

by fewlmewn (Shouriko)



Series: There Is a Fire Inside of Us [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Femdom, Humiliation, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shouriko/pseuds/fewlmewn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows exactly what he yearns for, what he needs. What they both need. In fact, their desires match so perfectly they fit together, melding and joining with something that is so filthy it's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless PwP. I swear to God, I don't know what happened. Ok, there's also feeling and fluff underneath. But! There's A LOT of dirty talking, so brace yourselves. I didn't tag all of the kinks mentioned in the fic because some of it it's really just hinted at, or mentioned briefly or is doesn't warrant a tag per se but, just in case you want to check before reading, there's some mentions of (past? future?) Watersports, minor Animal Play (in the form of name-calling and behaviors), very minor Feminization (only included through name-calling), some Manhandling, and since this fic includes Pegging and Prostate Milking/Orgasms, in a way there's also some Edging involved.  
> Well... enjoy! And tell me what you think :D

_“Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves” –_ Laura Esquivel

 

 

Her dark, strong legs locked over his back, muscled calves sliding across sweat-slicked shoulder blades. Calloused hands disappearing in a pitch-black sea of hair, falling wildly and pulled closer and closer, as if she could somehow make him dive deeper between her tumid folds.

Scattered moans and an undying hunger branding the air.

"Lapping like the dog you are. So good to me, aren't you?"

A wet, rumbling groan resonates between her clenching thighs, but it's not enough.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

A satisfied smirk crosses her dark lips, but as tucked away as he is under her, held tightly in a loving vice, there's no way for him to know just how much he pleases her. He can only hope. And beg.

Another broad lick to follow, a tender nip where he knows she secretly yearns for but would never admit to – not on these nights – and blistering tongue probing inside along even more scorching depths are a mark of loyalty.

"Enough. I reckon you deserve a prize. Up you go."

He looks up, spit and juices shimmering at candlelight all over his beard and moustache. He'll smell her for days, with each breath taken, and the intense aroma of her will accompany him, concealed under every sentence uttered. He is such a good little bitch, following orders so prettily.

"Sit on my face, I want to return the favour."

He raises and crawls over her, careful not to touch anywhere he's not been instructed to. His prick hangs over his sac, half-hard and heavy but the clear slickness over his upper thighs mean he's been enjoying himself so far. She knows he hasn't been touching himself at all, even if he could have, having his lower body hidden from her sight. But if he's listened to her instructions – and she's sure he has, as always – his useless cock has been untouched for the past week. Just how she likes to have him in preparation for nights such as these. Ready to burst, desperate, and in heat like a real wolf ready to mate.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"As long as you keep your pathetic dick off my face. Hold it, but don't stroke it. Here's a thought, it’ll be even better, later, if you can manage to stay soft. No, let the balls down, leave those to me."

And he complies, straddling her face and avoiding the jagged edges of her broken horns, black as the night. He carefully cups his length, as delicately as possible, without touching the head that still threatens to spill precome down to her lashes.

She nuzzles his sac, burying her nose in the soft skin there and kneading his balls with every movement of her face, and in the curls that gather just below, where his masculine scent is stronger and biting and makes her mad with lust each time.

"I trust you've cleaned yourself, you filthy mongrel."

"Yes, Mistress. With the hose, as you instructed." He stammers under his breath, clearly mortified. For men like him, the bath is not a fitting place. If they must clean themselves, it's much better to do so behind the barn, using whatever makeshift tools can be collected. Like a spare bucket that tinkles when the stream of piss hits it, or the hard-bristled brush used for mounts. And if someone walks in, or catches you red-skinned and scrubbed raw, you deserved it for being careless.

She's pleased with his behaviour, and he’s earned everything she's willing to let him have. It's her time to lick, and suck and delve inside and drink in her man's strangled gasps and hushed grunts of pleasure. She pries his hairy cheeks apart and lifts him higher, so she can see his glorious twitching hole.

The first few wet touches are always somewhat ticklish and humiliating, but the warm and smooth slide will overpower those feels, and his moans grow louder and more reckless, and once she spits on her hand, the sound awakes something wild in him. He starts huffing like a dog.

If until a few minutes earlier his fevered cunt-eating was making  _her_  squirm like a bitch in heat, now it's clear who the bitch is of the two.

With two slicked fingers, she starts to breach him.

"Dripping and spread out for me already... " She muses fondly from under his pursed scrotum when he unconsciously widens his stance to give her better access. "Let's see if your little cunt is as greedy as you are."

And he opens beautifully, as if he was born for this degradation. But she already knew that, and after the first few tries in the past, she stopped using only one finger to prepare him altogether, unless she’s being a tease on purpose. He can take two at once, no matter how long it's been since the last time. He can take so much more than that - and he will.

 

A short while later, he takes all four of her fingers up to the base, and she’s strong enough to scissor them inside of him even if he’s tight and it’s hard to keep his muscled cheeks apart. She twists her wrist, feeling and mapping out his smooth walls, and he fucks himself on her hand, rocking minutely, pretending he doesn’t want the intrusion. But he’s so good, his dick is still only at half-mast and flagging, dripping clear precome over his twitching hand but never spilling, and he takes all she’s giving him diligently. With the bare amount of saliva she’s coated her fingers with, it is to be assumed the stretch burns and feels electric as it rushes across his nerves, stimulating his sensitive entrance, but if his steady and relentless moans are anything to go by, everything is going exactly as planned. With her free thumb she massages his taint, pushing down without mercy to let him feel the pressure on his prostate inside and out. Wet circles make his coarse hair coil to create pretty patterns.

With her other hand, she rolls his balls, distractedly, without meaning to arouse, just to keep his mind off his ass. She knows that if he loses himself in the sensations from the anal stimulation he won’t last through the whole night.

Once she’s sure he’s prepared enough to take her, she removes her hand with a fast motion that makes him sigh loudly and hiccup with the harsh intake of air, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Such a wet, sleazy dog we have here. Ready to be fucked, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Tell me how you want to be taken.”

He swallows down the tightness in his throat, and he’s swallowing his pride too. He might be useless, pathetic and disgusting when they get down to this, but he’s not worthless. If anything, he’s a prize horse to be showed around or, if the mood strikes, something far less appealing. But only she can decide when and to what extent he's allowed to be a filthy dog who's only good for fetching and tricks. She will never call him worthless. When they're together, they’re in a safe space where they can let themselves go and answer to their more basic instincts. And despite the humiliation and degradation, she loves him deeply and will never allow him to think lowly of himself ever again. Which is why she respects his needs, his cravings. Which is why if he told her he wants to be taken gently, slowly and lovingly, she’d obey his wishes. But instead…

“Fuck me hard, make it hurt. I want to feel you in my ass while we’re out fighting, Mistress. I want to be sore from taking you, I want to be good.”

“I’ll make sure you will be, then. Take position. Yes, that’s one good little pup.”

She raises herself and walks the distance to her dresser while he kneels in the middle of the bed, expression of blissed submission hidden under a curtain of hair between his elbows. She approaches him and, with a vicious tug, she yanks the dark locks out of his face and forces him to see the big leather dildo holstered to the harness she’s put on.

She’s wearing nothing but the contraption made of bands of dark cured hide, metal buckles and rings connecting each part, yet somehow she manages to look imposing and threatening. And only half of that is due to her impressive figure and height, to her being Vashothari. The rest is just sheer inclination and skill.

“Prepare me. Show me you can be good for something, alright? The better you behave, the better I’ll ram your ass.”

His strong thighs start wavering, and it’s just one of the many imperceptible signs that she can see even when he himself is unaware of his thirst. She hopes he’ll work fast enough, because from how he’s faring, he won’t hold back much longer.

But there’s no need to urge him further. Despite having a watering mouth, he spells out a clear “Thank you, Mistress.” that makes her swell with pride, and immediately works his jaw open and starts descending over the dildo.

_A fine thing, purchased in secret, even though the prospect of letting everyone know the Inquisitor had bought an intimidating implement – clearly to use it on her lover, thus shaming him publicly – had made her wet at the mere thought of such a display of dominance. But she respected the fact that these acts knew a precise time and place to be carried out optimally, for the both of them. The strips of leather were tightly wound to form a perfect phallic shape, hard on the inside but fairly tender on surface, and dark, almost like an extension of her own body. The dildo was nearly the same shade of her labia, and that had generated a strong psychological response in her lover the first time she had showed him the appendage, making him whimper at how perfect it looked. She loved the way it fit snugly inside every part of her lover. It was larger than him, and big enough to fill and stretch deliciously, and its frightful dimensions had gotten old fast once he accepted the cock into his body and begun appreciating its features like she did. It also helped in disgracing him more fully, so it was definitely a part of her devious collection she appreciated and treasured fondly._

The dark moustache dragged and caught on the harness in some points, but it was all worth it to see the hard rod disappear inside his throat. He gags and splutters all over her gorgeous dick, streaks of saliva joining the silvery hairs of his beard, painting a pretty picture of debasement. She wishes she could feel him clench, but it’s not possible, so she makes up for what she can’t experience in person with the aid of her own perverted imagination.

Each rough bump on the roof of his mouth, teeth fighting to remain out of the way, as if he’s aware of how she’d know it if he let his jaw close even for a fraction of a second, and then the tongue working the underside of her length, drawing patterns and writing pleads. But seeing his lust-hooded eyes, fogged with unshed tears, the trickles of drool gathering at the stretched corners of his mouth, all of this paired with the great gulps of air he takes when resurfacing make her naked thighs wet with moisture from her cunt. Seeing him like this always, inevitably, turns her on greatly, and even if she’ll receive no penetration from pegging him, the rocking of the dildo against her clit and the sight of his pussy getting fucked will make her reach her climax. There’s not a single night where it hasn’t been so.

He coughs a couple of times, and heaves from the lack of oxygen, but he’s ready to impale his skull over her cock some more when she pulls him off from her crotch, like his head is just a weightless toy.

“I should’ve known a foul bastard like you would’ve been a revolting cocksucker too. If it was for you, you’d live with a huge dick down your throat, you wouldn’t even need to come up to fucking eat or drink, would you? You be fine drinking piss and eating spunk and warming up my prick forever.”

The mention of all those twisted things should make him want to flee, but deep in this safe space she brings him to, it only heightens his arousal. A quick glance down the curve of his body, down his hairy chest and soft tummy reveals his flaccid, heavy cocklet has made a valiant attempt at twitching at her little speech. Maybe she’ll have to push some other buttons soon, to keep his submission complete and utterly devoted.

She crawls on the bed to circle him, like a predator. He catches his breath, bracing himself for what’s about to come, for what he’s asked for.

Spit hits his crack and slides down, stopped by the matted hair along his buttocks, but she’s already pressing her fingers in. She retrieves a small jar of lubricant from the bedside table, and smears a big dollop of the salve over his hungry hole.

“Such a beautiful ass, you’ve really opened up for me. I’ll have to work even harder if I want to make it hurt.”

“Please, please, please Mistress. Fuck me open even more.”

“Don’t worry, pup. I heard you.”

She laughs behind his back when he fucks against her hand, urging her to slick him faster, desperate for a good fuck that’ll make him forget who he is. And who he isn’t. But that’s alright, because she understands him. He can live in the safety of the knowledge that she  _will_  punish him if he misbehaves, she’s all the forgiveness he’ll ever need again.

Then she presses the head of the dildo against his entrance, and he drops his face to the blanket, burrowing against the fabric and biting down, trying to muffle his pleasure.

She keeps pushing without stopping until she’s completely seated inside of him. It’s a good stretch, a slow burn that will only increase, and they both love the way it makes them feel, how it makes  _him_  feel so embarrassed and abused.

The thrusting starts with a blistering pace, right away, without time for respite. Her hands move everywhere, she keeps a possessive, bruising grip over his hips, rakes her nails down his back, and embraces him in a way she knows will make him feel mortified, her long arms circling his midsection like he’s just a ragdoll.

“Are you gonna piss yourself like last time?”

She inquires with a serious note of feigned repulsion in her voice when a particularly harsh stroke makes his tummy bulge with the depth and weight of her cock. His knees very nearly give out at her words.

“Nghhh no, Mistress”

“You mean you'll try not to, but it's not up to you.”

He knows that it already happened once and just like he couldn’t do anything about it then, he won’t be able to control himself if it happens again. The thought of how degrading that would be makes him dizzy and, in a moment of weakness, as she pounds him viciously, he splays out under her relentless fucking. She pulls his dead weight up again and chuckles, holding him up like a puppet.

When she grows tired of the rhythm, she bends over him and licks his earlobes, kisses his nape, and whispers filthy words that make him sob against her cheek. The new angle makes her fucking shallower but harder, and the dildo hits the soft spot that makes him shiver and growl deep down his chest. From the way he’s fucking himself back and forth, she knows he’s close.

With a harsh movement, she pulls out all of her rigid length and slaps his ass playfully before moving on, knowing it’ll leave a beautiful handprint that’ll cover his buttock entirely.

“Time to lay belly up, boy. I’m going to milk your pretty clit.”

He whimpers and rolls over obediently, which earns him an aggressive kiss, all bruising lips and teeth. But when they separate, she’s smiling tenderly at him. He’s doing so well.

She holds his legs up and apart, displaying his already sore pussy. The sight of it makes her mouth and cunt water, and she wishes she could lower herself and eat him out, to soothe him proper, but it’s not the right time yet. Instead, when he grabs to keep his own legs spread, she moves her hands to knead the flesh of his pectorals, feeling his masculine chest raise and fall under her fingertips. She’ll probably leave bruises, but he doesn’t so much as breathe a word of discomfort, not even when she toys with his pebbled nipples.

“I wish you could see yourself, so used and perfect. I’m sure one day you’ll fuck me like  _I_  fuck you. But until then you’re allowed to stay a bitch, as long as you behave.”

“Yes, Mistress. I want to please you, Mistress.”

At that, she briefly drops the act to give some much needed reassurance.

“You  _are_  pleasing me. No matter what you do, when you obey and listen to me you  _always_  make me happy. You know that, don’t you? You’re so beautiful and filthy, just for me.”

“Thank you, Mistress – I know, thank you for reminding me – only yours, Mistress.”

“Good. Now, ass in the air, I want to see your fat cock  _and_  your face while I mount you.”

He nods and, forearms locked in place under his knees, tugs his legs towards his chest even more until he’s nearly folded in half. She towers over him when they’re like this, so much taller and bigger than his prone figure.

With a wet, quick slide, she’s completely filling him again, so much the lubricant they’re using oozes out around her girth every time she pushes in. She can feel the bump of his prostate against the upturned leather cockhead whenever she pulls out enough the curve of the dildo brushes against it, and his low, gravelly, breathless moans signal she’s stimulating him in just the right place.

It’s not long before the continued fucking starts bearing its fruits, and after a couple of minutes in the new position, he has an earth-shattering prostate orgasm that has him clenching around the intrusion and gripping her hands where they’re digging in the back of his thighs.

“Oh, dear Maker!” He howls.

Nothing comes out of his dick, save for a thin thread of clear precome. He’s trained himself enough he knows how to deal with this type of stimulation. He knows exactly how to behave when she wants to milk him – stay soft, save up your climax until it’s time, hold back and don’t blow your load until you’re sure you’ll come well and profusely, just like she wants you to.

And the way he restrains himself without even needing to be ordered to makes her so happy and proud of his control. A real good bitch, indeed.

“You're coming in your ass, I can feel you squeeze my cock - soon you'll be dripping slick all over me. You're disgusting.”

She laughs in his face, but the ramming doesn’t slow. Not until he’s come from the internal stimulation another three times, cock growing stiffer with each orgasm, swelling little by little.

“Your pathetic cocklet is trying to stay up. Are you tired, pup? Is your ruined pussy sore? Alright, alright. I want you to get hard now, yes, don’t hold back. And next time you feel like you’re coming, I want you to cover yourself in milk for me. That’s right, make that fat clit of yours hard and come all over your chest and face. I want you to open big, like a good pup waiting to lick the cream.”

It’s not so much the movements that make him fall over the edge as it’s her dirty talking. She knows what it does to him, and it’s a delight to see each word build his excitement, making him get harder. With every ‘bitch’ and with every denigrating term she calls him, his considerable length swells and engorges, the head getting such a pretty shade of purple it always makes her long for the nights she’ll be able to swallow him down. And if the sight of him filling out makes her want to ride him and feel him inside her, that’s a thought for another time. For now, he’s the one who needs release, and she shall allow him to have it.

“Yeah boy. You’re so close. You’re making your Mistress so wet, you’re so perfect. Now for the finishing touch – be a good boy and come for me.”

His face is the perfect mixture of bliss and pain and pleasure and degradation. Being called names, being pounded like an animal, feeling so sore and so good at the same time. Hearing her words like they’re coming from the other side of the room, too far, but all the while she’s filling him up to the brim, so close she might as well swallow him up.

It’s a silent scream that is ripped out of him with her last deep and brutal thrust, one that can be seen in the slight jutting outline of her impressive cock under his belly button. He’s breathless, eyes screwed shut, and she’s bending over him, holding him down with her hands splayed over his chest.

The flooding cum shot peppers the underside of her breasts in pearls, but lands for the most part on his stomach in a thick, white pool. Some spent reaches his face, and he manages to remember to open wide just in time for some drips to find his tongue.

She’s breathing heavily when he catches his bearings and joins her with deep grunts of post-coital delight.

“Amazing. Look at how much you’ve come. You’ve been so, so good.”

Gentle caresses to get the damp hair off of his sweaty brow and a soft kiss on his forehead seal their intense night. She slowly pulls out from him, careful not to bring any harm to his over sensitized hole. The phallus pops out with a wet sound that makes them both shudder, and the slick from the generous amount of lubricant used slides out of him in a frothy mess.

“I’ll put this away and clean you up. But first let me taste your wonderful cream.”

He sighs when she lowers down, her cock laying heavy beside his own still plump one, and eats his spunk up with broad licks. She cleans his dick too, with a curt gesture not meant to tease or torture, until his torso is spotless. Then, she burrows her face in his beard, and giggles happily before kissing him, sharing spit and spent lovingly.

 

Then, she wipes him down with a fluffy towel that smells of clean laundry – in stark contrast with the raunchy, debauched sex they’ve been having –, gives him salve and massages it into his shoulders and legs, and all the while he’s kissing every part of her he can reach – a clavicle, a broken horn, a temple, her stomach, and falls asleep over her breasts, whispering endearments and how much he loves her and how grateful he is to have her. She returns each and every one of his kindnesses and words, carding her hands through his matted hair.

Laying together and sharing this is the most blissful feeling when you’re so good for each other, when you fit perfectly into one another, no matter how the pieces are turned around and however long they’re toyed with. They’ll always end up back together, they'll always match.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was re-reading this in preparation to write and post the next installment in the series, and I ended up sanding edges and polishing the story here and there. I also changed titles, but it's still mostly the same! Some sentences and the wording may have changed a bit, and if you read this again you might notice the (hopefully) improved style.  
> As always comments and feedback are GREATLY appreciated and if you have suggestions, ideas, and thoughts about this work or future kinks/fetishes/turn-ons I might include do tell me! You can write those here as well, or find me on twitter @iwritememories.  
> And thanks for reading and for sticking around ;)


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